From The San Francisco Call, April 20, 1913.
By Lester J. Skidmore.
Farewell, old shoes!
Though greatly I’ve abused you,
I really get the blues
To think I have to lose you.
You’ve been a friend
And joy to me;
And now we must
Part company.
Yes, from the day
I purchased you,
You’ve never pinched like
Some shoes do.
Just like a glove
You’ve fit my feet,
And you were ever—
Ever neat.
You were quite dressy
In your day,
And on the street cut
Quite a sway.
And when your shape
And beauty, too,
Which I once prized,
Deserted you,
I clung to you most
Faithfully,
For you had been
So kind to me.
So many miles
You’ve led the way
And held your own, too,
Day by day.
A man’s best friend,
None can deny.
It breaks my heart
To say goodbye.
Farewell, old shoes!
Though greatly I’ve abused you,
I really get the blues
To think I have to lose you.